


A Party That's Also A Crime

by bluestargirl6 (pressdbtwnpages), pressdbtwnpages



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-04
Updated: 2007-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-15 17:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressdbtwnpages/pseuds/bluestargirl6, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressdbtwnpages/pseuds/pressdbtwnpages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>They say how you spend New Year’s Eve is how you’ll spend the rest of the year… it’s going to be a long year.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Party That's Also A Crime

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://wordsaremyfaith.livejournal.com/profile)[**wordsaremyfaith**](http://wordsaremyfaith.livejournal.com/) because she asked nicely. And it was totally her idea in the first place, though it didn’t come out quite the way it was supposed to. Also beta-d by [](http://wordsaremyfaith.livejournal.com/profile)[**wordsaremyfaith**](http://wordsaremyfaith.livejournal.com/).

Ryan tells him right before they’re supposed to go on stage and ring in the New Year, body tilted towards him, gesturing wildly with his hands.

Brendon can only stare back, unable to process what Ryan is telling him. He knew that Spencer and Jon had dates for tonight, but Ryan? It’s the ultimate betrayal on so many levels.

The band is announced, and of all the times Brendon’s been glad to be standing in front of a crowd of people, none of them compares with right now, when he just doesn’t want to process. His heart isn’t in performing, though. If he were a little more emo, Brendon would say his heart had been ripped out and left bleeding on the asphalt just offstage. But he’s not that emo - or that lame.

He doesn’t have the energy after Ryan’s little announcement to put on much of a stage show. His eyes keep drifting shut as he sings, and all he can see is Ryan five minutes ago telling him he’s not good enough. It’s no surprise that Brendon sings “I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck” with a little venom in his voice.

By the time they get off stage Brendon’s brief flare of anger has ebbed and has been replaced with exhaustion and hurt.

Happy New Year.

They say how you spend New Year’s Eve is how you’ll spend the rest of the year… it’s going to be a long fucking year.

They’re herded towards a limo and Brendon walks slowest, getting a pat on the back from Jon as the other guy hurries towards the car. The girls are waiting inside, Brendon knows, all dressed up, happy to see them, and ready to be photographed.

There’s a moment’s delay while the chauffeur comes around to open the door.

“Brendon,” Ryan starts to take the opportunity to, well, who knows what goes on in Ryan Ross’ head, but Brendon isn’t having any of it.

“Don’t, okay? Just… don’t.” Even Brendon is surprised by how broken down he sounds.

“Brendon,” Ryan tries again, his voice tender, “it’s just-”

“I know what it is, Ryan. You’ve been on this crusade for weeks and it’s fucking stupid.”

“I’m trying to protect us!” Ryan exclaims as the car door is opened.

“Uh-huh.” Brendon crawls into the car and tucks himself into an isolated corner, away from fawning girls. Not that he has anyone to fawn over him, anyway.

Jon shoots him a few sympathetic looks on the ride to the restaurant, and Spencer shrugs and tries to silently apologize for Ryan. Ryan, well, Ryan keeps himself occupied with a pair of willing and socially acceptable lips.

Brendon’s pretty fucking miserable and bitter when they get to the restaurant. He thinks he’s justified in that. Spencer doesn’t say much one way or the other, but Jon is lending support by doing his best to be affectionately touching Brendon at all times. It doesn’t suck.

They’re seated and Brendon obviously doesn’t pay an appropriate amount of attention to who’s sitting where, because he ends up sitting next to Ryan. The last thing Brendon wanted was a ringside seat to Ryan Plays It Straight 2007 and the hand on his thigh is hardly helpful.

“This sucks, “ Brendon mutters to Jon, who’s next to him on the other side. “This sucks so bad.”

Jon nods and scoots a little closer, consolingly. His girlfriend smiles at Brendon, confused.

Alcohol is delivered to the table, which causes discomfort to crackles like electricity in the air around them all. It has to stay; they, seven minors, have to be photographed with it for publicity reasons. Brendon starts to reassure Ryan before he remembers that Ryan’s got a girlfriend for that. He holds his glass out when Jon starts to pour.

Ryan gives him a disappointed glare and Brendon doesn’t know why making Ryan happy is expected to be in his job description right now. He’s just been dumped.

Brendon shakes his glass enough to make the ice cubes jingle and Jon reluctantly adds a little more alcohol to the provided juice.

Everyone seems to sort of adjust to the uncomfortable tension around the table. It hasn’t dissipated, but it’s gotten easier to bear. And then Pete bounds in, fresh from Fall Out Boy’s MTV appearance.

It starts off accidentally, probably, with Ryan talking animatedly to Pete while Brendon stares straight ahead, trying to keep his expression neutral but evidently still giving off the distinct impression of misery. Pete notices, and turns his focus to Brendon. With Brendon and Pete steering the conversation there’s a lot more laughing, despite how much interacting with Ryan hurts for Brendon right now.

After a few minutes of conversation, Pete, in true Wentz fashion, commands, “Move over, boys!” and leaps over the barrier, settling himself between Ryan and Brendon with a thump.

Credit has to be given - Pete is an extremely fine manipulator. All the time he’s turned towards Ryan, chatting and laughing, arm half around him, he’s got Brendon held close on his other side. He even manages to put a smile back on Brendon’s face.

Eventually though Pete has to go, says he has a hot date to ring in the new year with and then later announces that he can’t keep Patrick waiting. Brendon spots Jon shooting Spencer a glance, both of them grinning, and pointedly ignores Ryan while he wishes Pete a happy New Year.

The evening kind of disintegrates from there, without Pete to play at distracting Brendon. Jon takes the job upon himself, but he’s not nearly as smooth as Pete, nor as distracting. He tries though, which is more than can be said for certain of Brendon's other friends.

The next time Ryan makes a dive for his “girlfriend’s” lips, Jon tugs Brendon closer and hisses in his ear, “Bet he’s pretending she’s Pete.”

Brendon grins and raises his glass in a toast.

The gesture gets misunderstood and pretty soon the whole table is toasting. When Ryan decides that the best way to toast is to do so while entangled with The Girl, Brendon ends up staring into his glass like he’s trying not to cry. Or break something. Or look anywhere but to his right. But mostly he’s contemplating how crying is bad and something he should definitely not do.

It hardly helps that any time Ryan notices a camera being pointed in his direction he is all over “his girlfriend“. If Ryan’s trying to do what Brendon thinks he is trying to do, he’s trying too hard.

Jon’s had enough to drink by now - and Pete’s been gone long enough - that Jon takes to hugging Brendon randomly to keep him happy.

It works well enough that Brendon is not actually pouting when the seven of them pile into the limo back to the hotel.

Away from the cameras, Ryan and The Girl seem to have exchanged roles, she is trying to get into his pants and he keeps shooting glances at Brendon. Brendon kind of wants to hit him, because how, how the hell is he the bad guy here?

******

They each have their own rooms at the hotel, courtesy of NBC who is a little less cheap than Decaydance, something Ryan mentioned to Pete several times over the course of the evening.

When the others take their girlfriends to their rooms, Brendon goes to his alone. No surprise there. He misses sleeping around other people, though. Even if it is just sleeping, he’s gotten used to his bandmates’ constant presence.

He’s just pulled on his pajamas when there’s a knock on the door. He braces himself for Ryan’s excuses and is pleasantly surprised to see Jon in the hallway.

“You okay?”

And Brendon would like to play it off, and be all ‘Yeah, man, great! Why wouldn’t I be?’ But he’d really like a hug more.

He shakes his head slowly, staring at his feet, and Jon pulls Brendon tight against him.

“I…” Brendon attempts, but Jon shakes his head.

“No words necessary, man.”

Brendon pulls away a little bit and says, “Tonight really sucked.”

“Yeah,” Jon agrees.

“For you too? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

“It. You didn’t do anything, Brendon,” Jon assures him before letting him go and sitting on the edge of the bed. “We’re a band. Friends. Tonight should have been about us having fun.”

“I think it was supposed to be, but Ryan-”

A knock at the door interrupts.

Ryan’s got his hands on Brendon’s face and is kicking the door closed before Brendon has a second to react. He kisses Brendon deeply and sighs, “I’ve wanted to do that all night.”

“Hi, Ryan.” Jon waves from his place on the bed. Ryan waves back, distracted.

“Happy New Year, Brendon,” Ryan says, voice going husky as he leans in for another kiss. Brendon lets him, hates himself for just giving in, but it’s Ryan, and having him here is worth putting up with what went down tonight. Only, it hurt, being denied, being Ryan’s dirty little secret. Brendon frowns against Ryan’s mouth.

“What is it?” Ryan asks, pulling away reluctantly.

“You know we’re not okay, right? I… you hurt me, Ryan Ross.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just-”

“You have to stop caring so much. About other people. You could stand to care a little bit more about me,” Brendon says petulantly.

Ryan’s laugh is muffled from the way his face is buried by Brendon’s neck.

There’s another knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Jon offers as Ryan plants a kiss on Brendon’s jaw.

“Oh, hey, partying without me?” Spencer inquires, stepping into the room. His jacket is missing and there’s a lipstick stain on his collar, not that those things matter to the rest of them.

“Nah, man. Ryan’s just apologizing for being a dick to Brendon all night,” Jon explains for Brendon who is busy accepting Ryan‘s apology in the form of strong hands running up his back.

“Hey!” Ryan pries his mouth from Brendon’s to protest.

“Well, you were,” Jon observes.

“So were you.”

“No,” Jon corrects, “despite my girlfriend being there, I was nice to Brendon. Who, incidentally, is not my boyfriend.”

“Hey!” Brendon objects.

Jon grins crookedly at him, “Come ‘ere.”

Brendon obeys, stepping away from Ryan and slinging an arm around Jon’s waist, leaning in for an eagerly given kiss.

“Happy New Year’s, guys,” Spencer says with a grin as Ryan approaches him.

NBC has paid for hotel rooms for each of them, and they’re all being occupied, but that night Panic! at the Disco is only using one, cramming together and pretending they’re still on the bus.


End file.
